A Little Less Sixteen Candles
by Belestrange
Summary: In the middle of the night before he is set to leave, Harry realizes how to keep Ginny safe. Songfic to Fall Out Boy's A Little Less...


A/N: Ok, well this is my, what, twenty-first story (?) and it's my first Harry/Ginny and my first songfic. Review, 'cause I like it, but…who knows? I'm not used to writing Harry and Ginny, so I'm sorry if they seem a bit out of character.

Disclaimer: Fall Out Boy owns the song (A Little Less 'Sixteen Candles', a Little More 'Touch Me'), JKR owns the characters.

I confess, I messed up  
dropping "I'm sorry" like you're still around  
and I know you dressed up

hey kid you'll never live this down

He was wrong. (Wasn't he always?) Riddle knew. Voldemort knew. They were one and the same, of course, but that wasn't the point. His thoughts were becoming jumbled, just as they always did when she was around. And they were even more mixed up now, watching her in that…was it really a dress? Weren't bridesmaids supposed to look modest, put all attention on the bride or something? He swallowed noisily. If anything, Fleur at least had excellent taste in clothes. Ginny looked stunning in her flimsy, pale yellow satin dress, with its plunging neckline and a back that seemed to be absent. He wasn't going to be able to stand this much longer – she was tempting him, and she was doing it on purpose! He wanted to keep her safe, but deep in their hearts they both knew that no amount of separation was going to keep her out of harm's way. Riddle had gone after her long before they were romantically connected – or even really connected at all – and he knew Snape knew about them. He would've told Voldemort by now, surely. 

'Cause you're just the girl all the boys want to dance with  
And I'm just the boy who's had too many chances  
I'm sleeping on your folk's porch again, dreaming  
She said, she said, she said,

Why don't you just drop dead?

And she was angry with him. He knew that much. She hadn't spoken a word to him since he'd arrived at the Burrow, nearly two weeks ago. Now she was torturing him, looking insanely perfect in The Dress and dancing with every male who asked her (there were many), while he sat in the corner, watching. She knew he was watching, and that just made it worse, for she put on such a show of having fun that it was almost believable. He wanted to talk to her, to kiss her, hold her, so badly, but his wounded pride (and her anger) kept him at bay. Besides, they were leaving tomorrow. There was no time. He might - he might never see her again after tonight. They certainly weren't telling her that they were leaving.

-

As he rolled out an old sleeping bag on the Burrow's front porch on the opposite side from Ron and Hermione (who, he'd finally noticed, might want some privacy), ready to depart come first light, he wondered what would happen to her. He wasn't too concerned about himself anymore – he'd resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't invincible – but if she died…suddenly, he knew. He knew he had to tell her what was going on. She had to come. Molly and Arthur wouldn't like it, but she'd be safer with him. Why hadn't he seen it before? He'd be right there to protect her! It was perfect…

I don't blame you for being you  
but you can't blame me for hating it  
so say, what are you waiting for?  
Kiss her, kiss her  
I set my clocks early 'cause I know I'm always late

He'd always been a bit foolish about romance, and he decided that this should be done the old-fashioned way. So, he went down to the pond (after Ron and Hermione had finally drifted off) and gathered a fistful of tiny stones. Then he snuck back to the house and around the decrepit structure until he found her bedroom window. The first pebble hit its target. She slid up the window and glared down at him.

"What do you want? It's nearly one in the morning!"

"Why are you still awake, then?"

"Insomnia. Over you. Thanks, Harry."

"I have to talk to you. Come down here."

"No."

"Ginny –"

"No! If you're so desperate to talk to me, come up here yourself."

She disappeared back inside, but left her window open. Harry sighed. She wasn't going to make this easy. He wasn't about to venture into the house through the front door and wake everyone up on the way to her bedroom – the stairs were unnaturally creaky. Apperating, too, was too noisy, and he wasn't about to go all the way back to the porch on the other side of the house for his Firebolt. So, cursing every deity he could think of, he grabbed a strand of ivy clinging to the old house and began to heave himself up.

-

"Harry James Potter, you just don't give up, do you?" He kissed her. She pushed him away.

Write me off, give up on me  
Cause darling, what did you expect  
I'm just off a lost cause  
a long shot, don't even take this bet  
You can make all the moves, you can aim all the spotlights  
Get all the sighs and the moans just right

He had feared this. Maybe she'd realized that he didn't deserve her. She was too good for him, and he was too much work. Now she wouldn't kiss him. Harry'd never been a ladies man, exactly, but he could usually tell what Ginny was thinking. Now, he wasn't so sure.

"Gin…?"

"Don't you dare 'Gin' me, Harry Potter –"

"Ginny, I didn't mean – "

"You think you can just waltz in here and expect me to fall back into your arms? And using your special nickname for me; well, way to make me feel guilty, Harry."

"What the hell are you on about? I'm not trying to make you feel guilty!"

"Gin! You're the only person who's ever called me Gin!"

"I wasn't aware of that, but it's not the point right now, Ginny. And of course I didn't expect you to just 'fall back into my arms.' That'd be much too easy. I just figured I'd give it a shot."

"Well it's not going to work."

"I've noticed. But I have to talk to you. It's urgent. We haven't got much time."

"Of course we've got time! We have the whole summer, haven't we?"

"No, actually, I'm leaving in the morning with Ron and Hermione to search for…Horcruxes."

"What the hell're Horcruxes?" So he had to explain.

-

Fifteen minutes later, Ginny sat on her bed, staring at him, wide-eyed, as he paced.

"So you've got to come with us, see? That way you won't be in as much danger, and we'll be together – if you still want to," he quickly added. "Please, Ginny?" His tone was pleading. She looked at him seriously for a moment, then a small smile crossed her face and she said,

"Well, I suppose I'll have to, won't I?" A huge grin lit up his face and he wrapped his arms around her.

"Thank God, Ginny, I was afraid I'd have to use Petrifcus Totalus!" She smiled wryly.

"Well, I couldn't leave you with Ron and Hermione for company, could I? Honestly, they think they're being discreet – I walked in on them snogging in the linen cupboard a few days ago and they didn't even notice!" They both laughed freely, much longer and louder than was necessary, just happy to be able to laugh together again. Then suddenly, they were kissing fervently. Ginny sighed into Harry's mouth as he pushed her back onto the bed. She'd forgotten how good it felt to kiss him…

I'm sleeping on your folk's porch again, dreaming  
She said, she said, she said, "Why don't you just drop dead?" 

After fooling about for an hour or so on her bed, they both became tired, and Ginny settled down in the comfortable circle of Harry's arms. He pulled the sheets over them, and they fell asleep quickly.

-

This was how Ron found them the next morning, and of course, immeadeatly assumed the worst. He woke the entire household with his bellowing on and on about inappropriate actions and killing Harry before Voldemort got the chance, until Hermione (who, like everyone else, had followed the sound of Ron's shouts up to Ginny's room to see what all the commotion was about) pointed out that they were both still fully clothed. Ron shut up and apologized lamely, then everyone trooped out to go back to bed. Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione didn't leave the Burrow for another week after that. Everyone had found out their plans in all the chaos of Ron's bellowing, and did absolutely everything possible to stop them (to no avail, of course), which was, as Harry pointed out to Hermione one afternoon, the reason they weren't going to tell anyone in the first place.

But, life goes on.

I don't blame you for being you  
But you can't blame me for hating it  
So say, what are you waiting for?  
Kiss her, kiss her  
I set my clocks early 'cause I know I'm always late 

END 


End file.
